Bombarded by questions: Did you like it? How was it? Tell us?

A YouGov poll of the things that people find most annoying about the use of technology determined that fifth most vexing, despised by 53 percent of folks, are “endless requests to ‘rate’ or give feedback on companies or services you’ve contacted.”

Sometimes, the findings of a poll just speak to you: As a credit-card-carrying member of a certain airline’s High and Mighty Club, we receive two passes per year for one-time use at that airline’s Fancy-Pants Lounge. At the prospect of a five-hour wait for a flight at Newark Liberty International Airport last summer, we congratulated ourselves for remembering to take those passes when we packed for the trip.

When we presented ourselves at the desk, though, we were told there was no room at the lounge. When we complained about the airline’s breaking the terms of the deal it had offered, we were told to read the fine print on the contract (which we didn’t happen to have packed for the trip). Embarrassed to be turned away — did the passengers behind us think we were gate-crashers? — we slunk off. A tweeted complaint was answered immediately but unsatisfactorily, with more words about the fine print.

Then, a few weeks ago, amid reminders from the airline to use our passes because they would soon expire, a survey washed up in the email. How did we like our last trip? We answered the questions politely, but expressed our annoyance in the comments section. We received immediate acknowledgment that our comments were being processed, and then, in two weeks or so, a letter saying the airline was sorry for our experience and hoped we would try them again.

This week, a letter arrived asking if we would take a survey about how we liked the airline’s response to their survey. I was about to use that survey to fire off a response, when in the middle of my computer screen, a box popped up asking me if I would mind, after I filled out the survey, taking a survey about how I liked the survey.

P.S.: On a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being jumping out of seat and shouting olé and 5 being trying to suffocate yourself with your pillow, please rate the above item. The space below (and I don’t think there is any) is for comments.

Jan Wahl attended the Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen event at the Masonic on Friday, Nov. 30, and reports that video clips included Cooper dancing with Madonna. (I don’t think that an Ed Murrow retrospective would have included that). And Marvin Halpern went to a screening of “Stan and Ollie” on Sunday, Dec.2, where the surprise guest was John C. Reilly, who plays Oliver Hardy, and “mesmerized the audience” with his comedy knowledge.

And in the Q&A that followed “As Needed,” on opening night of the New Italian Cinema festival, charming director Francesco Falaschi said he’d made the movie for $2 million. “The actors are well known in Italy,” he explained, “but not stars. And unfortunately, neither is the director.”

P.S.: At the AMC Kabuki 8 on Friday night, an alarm went off, moviegoers were evacuated, and firefighters showed up. It wasn’t all that disappointing for some evacuees, including one woman Bertie Brouhard heard telling another, “There are no ugly firemen in this city.”

In preparation for a production of “A Conversation With Edith Head” at the Pear Theatre in Mountain View (from Friday, Dec. 7 through Dec. 16), Janet Ghent, a former fashion editor, writes about having twice interviewed Head. She “was a notorious liar” and, in an interview in the 1970s, chopped 10 years from her age, emailed Ghent. Caught, she said “I lied! What’s wrong with making yourself a little younger, as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody?”

Curious about this self-invented creature (other surprises about her background are revealed in the show), I looked through Chronicle stories that had mentioned her. According to one that ran in the 1980s, “Hollywood designer Edith Head had stern advice for the increasing number of married women who took on jobs following the war and brought their work and their business attire back to their homes. ‘No man wants a boorish, executive-looking woman at the dinner table, and no man wants a too-alluring creature gliding around his office,’ Head wrote.” Oh, we ought to just stay home and dream up lies.

Leah Garchik washed up on the shores of Fifth and Mission in 1972, began her duties as a part-time temporary steno clerk, and has done everything around The Chronicle including washing the dishes (her coffee cup). Over the years, she has served as writer, reviewer, editor and columnist. She is the author of two books, “San Francisco: Its Sights and Secrets” and “Real Life Romance."

She is an avid knitter, a terrible accordion player, a sporadic tweeter and a pretty good speller.